


Climax

by rosenkrone



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 21:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18415886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosenkrone/pseuds/rosenkrone
Summary: The moment that Korwa hears that voice, so rough and crass and different from the Ilsa that she knows, it sends a delightful little thrill through her body.





	Climax

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vanui](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanui/gifts).



> I jokingly mentioned that Korwa would enjoy Ilsa's Drill Sergeant voice
> 
> Korwa - step on me  
> Ilsa - what  
> Korwa - what
> 
> 2.2k later here we are ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> (Thank you Cam for all your edits and suggestions!)

The moment that Korwa hears that voice, so rough and crass and _different_ from the Ilsa that she knows, it sends a delightful little thrill through her body.  Korwa certainly enjoys being able to see Ilsa’s softer side as they grow closer but she cannot stop thinking about what that voice is capable of.  She finds herself recalling the sound of those words and even the fire in Ilsa’s eyes as she practically growled at the trainees that had been standing before her.  The low pitch echoes through her mind at the most unfortunate moments, even distracting Korwa during work until she finds herself unconsciously sketching out uniform designs between projects.  

Gentle touches and hesitant kisses have a charm of their own and Korwa does have quite a bit of fun when it comes to flustering Ilsa.  Casually invading Ilsa’s personal space and watching that blush trail lower and lower has even become one of Korwa’s favorite past times.  However, she cannot help but let her mind wander, imagining what could come from Ilsa suddenly taking control. Perhaps with a little convincing, Korwa might even be able to persuade Ilsa to indulge her in this fantasy.  The very thought makes her shiver in anticipation as she reaches for her drafting tools.

Ilsa has become quite the source of inspiration as of late and a smile curves along Korwa’s face as she sketches out a quick design.  If she works quickly enough, she might even be able to finish before their next meeting.

 

* * *

  


“You want me to…”  Ilsa’s eyes grow wide as the idea begins to sink into her mind.  She clears her throat before continuing, “Are you sure?”

Korwa studies Ilsa’s reaction, noting that even though Ilsa is surprised, she has yet to outright deny the possibility.  A low heat settles within and Korwa reaches for Ilsa’s hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing softly. “I trust that we could both have quite a bit of fun with this.  Think of it as a bit of roleplaying.”

Meeting Korwa’s gaze, Ilsa lets out a somewhat shaky breath, ears twitching slightly.  “If you’re certain…”

“I have full faith in your abilities.  Though if you need a little push in the right direction…”  Releasing Ilsa’s hand, Korwa takes hold of the item resting on the table beside them and presents one of her newest designs.  The cap is nearly identical to the one Ilsa wears during her usual duties. With a few personal embellishments of course.

“That would help things along, honestly.”  Ilsa blinks, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.  After a moment she glances at Korwa’s outfit, no doubt noticing the very specific theme.  

“Do you like it?”  Korwa sets the cap on her head and spins around, showing off another design that had recently been finished.  All of those uniform sketches had been quite helpful when it came to putting everything together and the final result had come out just beautifully.

“It’s rather impressive, though I would expect nothing less from one of your designs.  You look quite lovely.”

Korwa soaks up the praise.  “Thank you, Sergeant.”

“If I’m the Sergeant, what does that make you?”  There is a curious expression in Ilsa’s eyes as she watches Korwa.

Pausing in her movements, Korwa presses one finger to her chin.  “A subordinate perhaps?”

Ilsa nods, letting out a hum of agreement.  “I believe I can make that work.”

“Oh?  I look forward to seeing what you have in mind.”  Korwa removes the cap and places it on top of Ilsa’s head.  Her fingers lightly graze against the side of Ilsa’s ear, lingering just a little longer than necessary.  She can practically feel the shudder that runs through Ilsa’s body and it makes her suddenly giddy.  Stepping back, Korwa watches as Ilsa quietly composes herself.  

She waits until Ilsa nods before turning her focus to the threads within the hat.  It only takes a simple nudge before Ilsa straightens, standing tall and moving her hands behind her back.  As Ilsa’s eyes open and meet her own, Korwa’s breath catches. Ilsa truly does look magnificent like this.

Eyes narrowing, Ilsa’s gaze rakes up and down Korwa’s body and she lets out a noise of disapproval.  The sound sends a shiver down her spine and Korwa unconsciously squares her shoulders, straightening her posture as quickly as possible.  

Ilsa steps forward, only stopping when they are practically standing chest to chest.  Her breath ghosts over Korwa’s face and Ilsa leans even closer, voice low as she speaks.  “You’re late, soldier. And it seems you didn’t even take that time to properly dress for our meeting.”

That gravelly quality of Ilsa’s voice goes straight to her belly and it takes Korwa a moment to focus on what Ilsa is saying.

“Such sloppiness will not be tolerated.”  Ilsa’s voice takes on a sharp edge and her hand roughly tugs at the ribbon tied around Korwa’s neck, nearly tearing the delicate cloth.  She takes a step back, gaze darkening. “Am I making myself clear?”

At any other time, Korwa would launch into a long lecture about the importance of treating her designs with the utmost care.  But she is too caught up in Ilsa’s stare to give it much thought. If it leads to more of these encounters, Korwa finds that she would not mind sacrificing a few pieces here and there.

Ilsa raises one brow, clearly noticing Korwa’s distraction.  “Am I boring you, soldier?”

“Not at all, Sergeant.”  Somehow Korwa manages to keep herself fairly composed despite that intense gaze.  Her ears quiver and Korwa stands as still as possible while Ilsa circles around her, heels clicking loudly with each step.

“If I’m not mistaken, this meeting was your idea.”  Ilsa pauses, standing directly behind Korwa. “And yet you’ve shown absolutely no regard for my time.”

Korwa wants so desperately to turn around and see the expression that Ilsa is making but she holds herself in place.

Moving once more, Ilsa rounds on Korwa, one finger tilting her chin up.  “I could possibly overlook the tardiness but these blatant dress code violations are another matter entirely.”

Korwa holds her breath, waiting.

Ilsa’s finger brushes against her throat, trailing past the ribbon to rest on the first button of Korwa’s jacket.  She slips the button free, her finger tracing over the silky material of the blouse that lies beneath.

The teasing touch leaves Korwa feeling slightly breathless.

With a sudden tug, the jacket is completely unbuttoned.  Korwa barely has time to mourn the scattered buttons when Ilsa begins to speak.  “Perhaps it’s best to start from the beginning. Since you clearly cannot recall something as simple as how to present yourself before a commanding officer.”

Korwa nearly stumbles as Ilsa tugs the ribbon around her neck, bringing them face to face.  

A satisfied smile spreads across Ilsa’s face.  “Strip.”

Just as suddenly, Ilsa releases her grip on the material leaving Korwa dizzy as she tries to regain her balance.

“Now, soldier.”  Ilsa taps her boot against the floor with a loud clack.

Korwa shakily reaches for the lapels of her uniform jacket, excitement thrumming through her veins.  She does not dare look away from Ilsa as she shrugs the jacket from her shoulders. It falls to the floor and Korwa’s fingers make quick work of the clasp that holds her skirt into place, letting it slide down her legs to pool around her ankles.  The blouse soon joins the rest of the uniform and she bends over to remove her stockings

Ilsa clears her throat.  “Those can stay.”

A hint of color appears in Ilsa’s cheeks and Korwa’s ears perk up even as Ilsa quickly regains her composure.  How interesting. She will need to tuck this little detail aside for later use. Korwa bites her lip, glancing at Ilsa through her lashes.  She removes the last of her clothing and lets the delicate material slip from her fingers.

Ilsa closes the distance between them, tracing along Korwa’s side until her hand comes to rest on the curve of Korwa’s hip.  She pinches the skin lightly, smirking when Korwa jumps.

The touch sends a pleasant jolt through Korwa and she inhales sharply as Ilsa pushes her backwards, leading her toward the bed.

“On your back.  Legs spread. I want to see you touch yourself.”  Ilsa’s voice pitches even lower and her words leave Korwa aching to hear just what other sounds she can coax out of Ilsa once their little roleplay comes to a climax.  

As her knees hit the edge of the bed, Korwa sits down and allows herself to fall back to rest on top of the soft bedding.  She makes herself comfortable and poses as Ilsa requests, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

Ilsa watches each movement, her throat bobbing slightly as Korwa’s hand trails lower and lower.  Even as she maintains her character, Korwa notices each little slip as her facade begins to crumble.  It’s a heady feeling to know that she has such an effect on Ilsa.

Korwa lightly brushes her fingers against herself with firm, gentle strokes.  She starts slow, taking her time to draw out the pleasure for as long as possible.  Locking gazes with Ilsa, Korwa lets her fingers slide lower, teasing for just a bit before pulling back.  Making sure that she has Ilsa’s full attention, Korwa slowly repeats the motion, her breath hitching slightly as her fingers graze over her entrance.

“Ilsa…”  Her lashes fall shut and Korwa slips her fingers inside, moving at a slow and deliberate pace.  The sound of cloth falling to the floor reaches her ears and moments later the mattress dips beside her.  

Korwa rocks her hips, steadily increasing the friction but a hand grabs her wrist, pausing the motion.  Opening her eyes, a smile spreads across Korwa’s face as she finds Ilsa kneeling above her.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

Ilsa stares down at Korwa, gently pulling her fingers free and moving to pin both hands above Korwa’s head.  Her other hand lightly ghosts over Korwa’s bare skin, teasing over the peaks of her nipples and leaving ticklish trails across her stomach until those talented fingers finally slide lower, right where she needs them.  Ilsa’s movements are tentative at first but she soon sets a steady rhythm, growing bolder as she takes in each and every reaction that her touch draws from Korwa.

Just as she is about to reach her peak, Ilsa pauses.  Korwa gasps, trying in vain to keep her from stopping but Ilsa keeps her pinned in place.

“Now, now.  You did keep me waiting, it’s only fair that I return the favor.”

It really is unfair, the way that voice is already sparking the flame inside of her.  Korwa shivers, her skin feeling overheated and uncomfortable as Ilsa drags out the moment.

It feels far too long until  Ilsa lets her touch trail over Korwa’s hip, blunt nails lightly scratching over bare skin.  Her fingers brush over Korwa’s thigh, teasing closer and closer before edging away. Finally, one finger and then another slips between her folds and Korwa lets out a shuddering breath.  Ilsa slowly begins to move, the rhythm steadily building Korwa up once more. She takes her time, curling her fingers just so until Korwa can feel the tension reaching its peak.

The touch slows yet again and Korwa bites back a strangled sound.  Her body shakes slightly, so close to a release that Ilsa will not grant.  

Ilsa sits up slightly, staring directly into Korwa’s eyes.  “How do we ask for permission, soldier?”

The question catches Korwa off guard and she struggles to think of the proper answer.  Her mind goes blank and she gasps out the first word that comes to mind. “P-Please…”

“Permission granted.”  

A thumb brushes against her clit and Korwa moans at the delicious friction.  It feels like all of her nerves are on fire, the flame quickly growing stronger as Ilsa crooks her fingers, hitting that spot that never fails to make Korwa see stars.

The grip on her wrists grows slack but she barely reacts, losing herself in the sensations that are spreading through her body.  It doesn’t take long before her muscles begin to quiver, and Korwa knows it is just within reach. Ilsa presses closer, her rhythm never once faltering.

“Come for me.”  

That low, rumbling voice is Korwa’s undoing.  Her eyes fall shut as she feels the orgasm finally wash over her, a soft whimper escaping as Ilsa gently works her through the aftershocks.  

It takes a few moments for Korwa to catch her breath and a few more before she finds the energy to open her eyes and stretch out the muscles in her arms.  Lashes fluttering open, she lazily reaches up and touches Ilsa’s cheek.

Ilsa flushes under her gentle touch, all traces of the Sergeant disappearing.  “That was…”

“...nothing short of brilliant.”  Korwa assures her without missing a beat.  She glances to the table where Ilsa had set her things earlier, eyes landing on Nybeth.  “Perhaps next time we can be even more creative.”

Ilsa follows her gaze, eyes widening when she notices what has caught Korwa’s attention.  

Before Ilsa can say anything, Korwa shifts beneath her.  With a sudden burst of energy, Korwa switches their positions, straddling Ilsa’s hips and leaning forward to nuzzle at her jaw.  “You did so well, I think you deserve something special in return. After all, it’s not fair if only I get a happy ending this evening.”


End file.
